Chapter 38: A Duel of Kings
The first rays of dawn painted Kenilworth Road in a soft golden glow as Kakeru Aizawa and Hiroshi Satou began their first full day with Luton Town. The new recruits had been given a brief tour of the facilities the evening before, but the magnitude of their journey into a new world was still settling in.
Settling Into the New World
Satou adjusted quickly. His calm demeanor and professional attitude meshed seamlessly with the team. Aoyama had already begun sharing tips with him about controlling the midfield, and Wakabayashi appreciated Satou's adaptability in filling gaps on the field.
Kakeru, on the other hand, was more visibly in awe of his surroundings. From the modern equipment to the bustling energy of the Premier League atmosphere, it was clear that this world was vastly different from what he had known.
"So this is what it feels like to step into a dream," Kakeru muttered, running his hand along the pristine pitch.
Barou, overhearing him, smirked. "Dreams are useless unless you have the guts to dominate them."
Kakeru turned, meeting Barou's intense gaze. "Dominate, huh? My brother always said the same thing."
"Your brother?" Barou raised an eyebrow, intrigued but unimpressed. "I don't care about your family history. On this field, only kings matter—and there's only room for one."
A flicker of something unfamiliar crossed Kakeru's face, but he said nothing. Instead, he nodded and turned back to the pitch.
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Barou's arms were crossed, his posture exuding dominance. "So, this is the new kid," he said, his tone a mix of curiosity and disdain. "You better be worth the effort."
Wakabayashi chuckled, his easygoing grin contrasting with Barou's intensity. "Relax, Barou. Give the kid a chance to prove himself."
Aoyama simply nodded, his calm demeanor unchanged. "Welcome to Luton."
Kakeru inclined his head in respect but couldn't ignore the challenge in Barou's eyes. "I'm here to work hard and help the team," he said. "But if you want me to prove myself, I'm more than ready."
Barou smirked. "Big words for someone fresh off the bench. Let's see if you can back them up."
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The Duel Begins
The challenge came swiftly. After the team's warm-up session, Barou called Kakeru over. "Let's settle this. A one-on-one duel. Show me what you've got."
Rahmat and Rutter, watching from the sidelines, exchanged glances. "Should we stop this?" Rutter asked.
Rahmat shook his head. "Let them sort it out. This could be the start of something important."
The players gathered in a loose circle, eager to see the showdown. Aoyama and Satou stood silently, their expressions unreadable, while Lewis leaned against the goalpost, clearly enjoying the spectacle.
The rules were simple: each player would take turns trying to score past Lewis, with the other acting as the defender.
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Barou's Dominance
Barou went first, his intensity palpable. He charged at Kakeru like a bull, using his size and raw power to bulldoze past him. His shot was a thunderous strike, smashing into the top corner of the net.
"One-nil," Barou said, turning to face Kakeru. "Your turn."
Kakeru nodded, his face calm but determined. He placed the ball at the center line and began his run.
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Kakeru Awakens
As Kakeru moved, something shifted. His pace quickened, his movements sharper and more precise. For a moment, it was as though he wasn't the same person. Those watching could almost see another figure overlaying his form—an older, more refined presence guiding his every move.
Aoyama's eyes narrowed. "What's happening?"
Wakabayashi straightened, his casual grin fading. "It's like... he's someone else."
Barou, caught off guard by Kakeru's sudden surge of speed, was left flat-footed as Kakeru feinted left and then surged right. The striker's composure was unnerving as he approached Lewis.
The shot that followed was unlike anything anyone expected. It was precise, powerful, and filled with an aura of dominance. Lewis barely managed to deflect it, the force of the ball leaving him stunned.
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The Ghost of Suguru
Barou frowned, stepping closer to Kakeru. "What was that? You're hiding something."
Kakeru's gaze darkened for a moment, and when he spoke, his voice was different—stronger, more commanding. "My brother Suguru was a king. He ruled the field with grace and precision. Sometimes, it feels like he's still here, guiding me."
Barou's smirk returned, but this time it was tinged with respect. "So, you've got a ghost backing you up? Fine. But I don't lose to kings—past or present."
Kakeru's expression softened, the intensity fading as quickly as it had come. "This isn't about him. It's about proving myself. Let's keep going."
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The Duel Intensifies
The two players pushed each other harder with every round. Barou's raw power and relentless aggression clashed with Kakeru's speed and technical finesse. The crowd of players watching grew more animated, cheering and shouting encouragement.
By the final round, the score was tied, and both players were drenched in sweat. Barou's confidence had not wavered, but there was a newfound respect in his gaze. Kakeru, for his part, seemed more focused than ever, the ghost of Suguru receding as his own determination took center stage.
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A Mutual Respect
Rutter blew his whistle, signaling the end of the duel. "Enough, you two. Save some of that fire for the actual matches."
Barou extended a hand to Kakeru, his smirk genuine this time. "You're better than I thought. Maybe you'll survive here after all."
Kakeru shook his hand, a small smile playing on his lips. "Coming from you, I'll take that as a compliment."
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Rahmat's Reflection
As the players dispersed, Rahmat approached Rutter. "What do you think?"
Rutter chuckled, shaking his head. "You've brought in another wild card, Rahmat. But I trust you. Aizawa's got something special, and if he keeps pushing himself, he'll make a real impact."
Rahmat nodded, watching as Kakeru and Barou exchanged a few more words before heading to the locker room. "This team is full of kings," he murmured. "Now it's my job to make them fight for the same throne."
As the sun dipped below the horizon, Rahmat felt a surge of optimism. The road ahead was long, but with players like these, anything seemed possible.